Citrus Perfume
by SheWhomLaughsLast
Summary: A collection of what if's for different events in South of Nowhere. Some good, some tragic. What if Ashley had gotten in a car crash after Paula walked in? What if Aiden hadn't been the one shot at prom? What if Ashley's Mom had kicked her out? ALL AU.
1. Chapter 1

**This is just a short little thingy I wrote about a possible event that could have happened when Paula walked in on Ashley and Spencer and pretty much attacked Ashley. I know it's sad. It made me cry when I was writing it. I kind of got the idea from the "What hurts the most" Rascal flats video if you were wondering where my twisted little mind went to when I got this idea. Spontaneous Writing is fun.**

"I'm sorry, Spencer" my fingers played gently against my shirt drawer. I couldn't think. It had to be a mistake. She was with me last night, I remembered holding her and kissing her and playfully slapping her hand away from the hem of my shirt. I remembered her lips, so soft and gentle. Her touch was like the caress of a butterfly. Her eyes, her warm, brown eyes staring straight into mine like I was the most precious thing in the world. Like she belonged to me. I picked up one of her shirts that was hooked on the mirror from the time she climbed up into my room in the middle of the night. If this was here, so was she. She wouldn't disappear like that. She wouldn't just-just…

"No." I said, my voice strong and full of force which I didn't possess. "Ashley was here, Dad. She was HERE!" She wasn't gone. She couldn't be. I held her that morning at school, hugged her by her locker and ate lunch with her. Her car, her car couldn't be—it wasn't where it was.

"It was a freak accident Spencer. It just happened." I whipped around at him and advanced.

"LIAR!" I shrieked, feeling my eyes sting as my anger materialized on my cheeks, wet and salty. "THINGS DON'T JUST HAPPEN!" I could feel the blood rushing to my face as I screamed bloody murder at my father "Look at me Dad." I said in a softer voice, "I-I don't exist without her. I'm nothing, I'm just nothing when she's gone. So if I'm still here, she has to be. She can't just be go—" I fell to my knees, a sudden unbelievable agony shook my body to the core "Oh no. No, no she can't be." He kneeled next to me "Dad, Dad just tell me it's a lie. Please Daddy? PLEASE!" I broke down completely, I sobbed into his shoulder. "Please, please…oh god no. Ashley, Ashley please."

Ashley Davies had been T-bones at an intersection by a drunk driver in a pick-up truck around eleven-forty pm after my mother walked in on us and chased her out of our house. The man driving had ingested three times the legal limit of alcohol. His truck pushed Ashley's car over an embankment and into a ravine where the convertible mustang rolled anywhere from twenty to forty times over rocks, stumps and dumped glass before coming to a complete stop face down in a shallow river. The paramedics said Ashley would have died the moment the car completed half a flip roof down on the cement barrier; they said it would have snapped her neck instantly and she would have felt nothing, no pain, no suffering. All I heard was 'they're lying to make you feel better.'

When my mother entered the room I attacked her like a rabies infected rabid dog. I lashed my hand across her face in a strongest bitch slap I'd ever delivered. Her head snapped to the right, a bright red print was already taking form. "It's YOUR FAULT!" I screamed through the tears. "SHE WOULDN'T BE GONE IF YOU COULD JUST ACCEPT WHO I AM! IT'S YOUR FAULT" My legs gave out from under me again, but I seemed to fall in slow motion. She was gone. My love, my life spent her night lying at the bottom of a ravine while I cried myself to sleep. She wouldn't be in my English class tomorrow. She wouldn't walk me to class or give me a ride. "No!" I yelled at the floor, my voice rough and hoarse with emotion as agony wrapped its cold hands around my throat and squeezed. "She's gone. She's really gone." I curled up on the ground, dragging my fingers over the hard wood planks like if I could score them deep enough she would walk in the room and tell me how bad that was for my finger nails.

I walked into school wearing an exceedingly baggy sweatshirt and jeans. I couldn't stop the endless stream of tears that streaked from my eyes. I just let them flow. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about school, I didn't care about what people were saying when they were whispering things as I passed or the way everyone looked at me with the sickening amount of pity in their eyes. Sitting in class was nearly unbearable. Her empty desk next to mine, the way people seemed to move around me at a safe distance. The way Chelsea and Kyla looked back at me from their seats in front of where we—I mean I sat. I couldn't look them in the eyes. I couldn't even fake a smile. Madison laid a soft hand on my shoulder gently from where she was behind me. That was the last straw. Madison would push a grandmother into traffic if she was bothering her by being old. She hated me and she was being nice to me. I'd hit rock bottom.

I grabbed my books and pushed past the teacher as she entered. She didn't call after me or try to send me to the principal's office. She couldn't and she knew that. Everyone knew what happened. I threw open the door of my beat up Volkswagen and slammed it shut after me. The silence was deafening. It was far too loud for me to think of anything but the girl who would be sitting next to me. Her tank top was thrown in the backseat. I reached behind myself and fumbled for it before grasping it softly in my left hand and bringing it to the front seat. I sat there, gently feeling the smooth fabric between my finger tips. It still smelt like her, like her beautiful citrus perfume; the one I'd given her on Valentine's Day. She'd worn it every day since. She told me that when she wore it, she thought of me.

The memory sent a fresh spasm of heart break through my body and I leaned my head against the steering wheel and cried.

"I'm so sorry Ashley." I whispered "I love you so much."


	2. Spencer Had to Accept Herself by Herself

"**What if Spencer didn't have Ashley to help her through the understanding of who she was?"**

I hit the back of my head against the wall as I sit in my bed, my laptop situated next to me. Why, why, why? Why couldn't I stop the thoughts floating in and out of my head? Why couldn't I control what my brain registered? It was MY brain after all. I should have control. I should be able to decide who I like. I wasn't gay. I didn't like girls. A small voice in the back of my mind whispered to me softly "You don't honestly think that, do you?" I dug my fingers into my scalp. I wanted it out. I wanted that stupid little voice to leave me the hell alone. I knew what I wanted "no you don't" I hit the back of my head against the drywall again. I stared at the computer longingly for a moment, eyeing the keys that I would press to get the result I wanted, to know the information I needed. I couldn't think about that. I couldn't type it because if I did…if I did it'd be true. It would be real. It couldn't be real. If-if it was real, they wouldn't love me anymore. I'd let them all down. My mother…my mother switches channels whenever a show comes on that addresses…people like THEM in a positive way, saying they're diverting from God's path. That they have condemned themselves to hell. What I felt was a phase at best. It couldn't be permanent. I would get over it, I would be able to move on and marry a man, have children, it would be fine. I would get through it easily.

My body didn't believe me.

I didn't believe me.

I slowly, hesitantly, slid off the bed and to the floor, wiggling my toes on the cold wood. I stared at the grain in the wood for what seemed like hours before shoving myself off the bed and staggering to the door. I pushed my weight against it carefully and closed it as quietly as possible. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself. I pressed my back against the heavy door and just looked at the shiny red laptop on my bed. "It'll be quick" the voice whispered softly to me "Just a few moments and you'll have your answer." I nodded to myself, agreeing with my subconscious for once.

"Just a few moments" I said aloud "just a few moments and then never again." With a deep breath, I walked towards the bed and sat down, pulling the computer onto my lap. Switching to my home page search engine, I quickly typed the words into the bar and hit enter. "roughly 131,000,000 results for 'how to know if you're gay' found in 0.11 seconds" the screen informed me and I cringed. It sounded cocky even in my head; as if the universe was gloating that it'd beat me. It was like it was rubbing it in my face that it had made me give in. With a wary glance at the door I clicked the first link; a how to page.

'if you have ever had the feeling that you've always been different than others, you may be gay." I sighed heavily with relief. I never felt out of place or…different.

'Examine your deepest feelings closely. It's perfectly normal for people - especially teenagers - to have a crush on someone of the same sex or to notice the attractiveness of someone of the same sex, but that doesn't mean you're gay unless your desires for the same sex are stronger than your desires for the opposite sex' I slammed the laptop shut and shoved off the bed and sent it clattering to the floor. No. No no no no no! I was not gay. I could have…feelings for girls and still be straight. I can be straight. "No" the voice hissed in my ear "you can't and you're not" The tears streamed mercilessly from my eyes. I rolled over and screamed into the pillow. I didn't cry out for anyone. I didn't say anything. I just unleashed a long, hoarse cry of someone who'd given up all hope on living. I was a freak. No one in my life was gay. No one I knew was ok with being gay. I was hurting all the time. I isolated myself from everyone else at school, knowing if they knew how I felt inside…the pain materialized in my eyes and spilled over onto my cheeks, dampening the pillow. I pulled the laptop back onto the bed and opened it again. I hit back a page. There had to be more information. There had to be—

A video titled 'If You Were Gay" appeared on the video section. With the tears still streaming and small whimpers escaping my lips, I clicked the link and waited while the video loaded, hugging a panda pillow pet to my chest and nuzzling my cheek into its soft fluff. As soon as it had buffered enough, the video started to play. I don't know what I was expecting, but I was surprised.

"  
ROD: ah, an afternoon alone with  
My favorite book, "Broadway  
Musicals of the 1940s."  
No roommate to bother me.  
How could it get any better than this?

NICKY: Oh, hi Rod!

ROD: Hi Nicky."

My sniveling stopped on its own accord, sudden and unexpected curiosity over whelmed me. The tears still clouded my eyes as the puppets danced across the stage.

"NICKY: Hey Rod, you'll never  
Guess what happened to  
Me on the subway this morning.  
This guy was smiling at me and talking to me

ROD: That's very interesting.

NICKY: He was being real friendly,  
And I think he was coming on to me.  
I think he might've thought I was gay!

ROD: Ahem, so, uh, why are you telling me this? Why should I care? I don't care. What did you have for lunch today?

NICKY: Oh, you don't have to get all defensive about it, Rod...

ROD: I'm NOT getting defensive! What do I care about some gay guy you met, okay? I'm trying to read."

I felt sick to my stomach. This wasn't making anything better. All this was showing me was that even puppets knew it was wrong to be who I was.

"NICKY: Oh, I didn't mean anything by it, Rod.  
I just think it's something we should be able to talk about.

ROD: I don't want to talk about it,  
Nicky! This conversation is over!

NICKY: Yeah, but...

ROD: OVER!"

I buried my face deeper into the warm softness of my pillow pet and curled my legs up to my chest. I felt like I was three again, I felt like the time Glen called me a fat, stupid head and I cried for at least an hour. I didn't feel like seventeen year old teenager. I felt weak and vulnerable. I closed my eyes and curled up tighter. I wished I could disappear.

"NICKY:  
Well, okay. But just so you know...

If you were gay  
that'd be okay  
I mean 'cause hey  
I'd like you anyway

ROD:  
Argh.

NICKY:  
Because you see  
if it were me  
I would feel free to say  
That I was gay  
...but I'm not gay."

What? I looked up at the laptop, feeling suddenly a little curious at the exaggerated motions of the puppets in the video.

"ROD:  
Nicky, please, I am trying to read...What?

NICKY:  
If you were queer

ROD:  
Oh, Nicky.

NICKY:  
I'd still be here

ROD:  
Nicky, I am trying to read this book.

NICKY:  
Year after year

ROD:  
Nicky!

NICKY:  
Because you're dear to me

ROD:  
Argh!

NICKY:  
And I know that you

ROD:  
What?

NICKY:  
Would accept me, too

ROD:  
I would?

NICKY:  
If I told you today,  
"Hey, guess what, I'm gay".  
...but I'm not gay.

I'm happy just being with you"

I uncurled and laid on my stomach, still clutching the pillow stuffy close to me. I giggled despite the tears that were still wet on my cheek. This Broadway song wasn't being sudden with malicious intent. It was kind but funny at the same time. It made sense they way they were singing it. I could feel a small smile twist my lips as I watched the figures. The song went on the same way it'd started. The one verse that really got to me was the one that made me sit up in bed and look-I mean really look at the girl staring back at me. My hair hid my eyes, shielding my face from the rest of the world. I leaned over to my bed side table and opened the hair elastics my mother bought for me a month ago, telling me I should show of my beautiful face to the world. I grabbed three bands and tied my hair in three pony tails all one after the other horizontally. I humbly wiped the tears from my face and sniffed once.

"NICKY:  
You can count on me  
To always be  
Beside you everyday  
To tell you it's okay  
You we're just born that way  
And as they, it's in your DNA  
You're gay."

It was in my DNA.

"I'm gay" I said softly and couldn't stop the huge smile that spread across my lips. I laughed softly, new tears flooded my vision, not of sadness, but of pure, undeniable joy. They poured down my face but I couldn't stop smiling like a moron. I could be happy. I could be who I was and I could have a good life. I could be married with children and have a family. I could be happy. I WAS happy for the first time in a long, long time. "I'm Spencer Carlin, dyke extraordinaire."

Hell yes.

**Hey guys, **

**So, I need your help. I honestly am suddenly out of ideas for the next "What if" so, being as witty as I am, I've decided to leave it up to you. Write a review and tell me what "What if" scenario you'd like to read next and maybe I'll do it. You don't have to, but this thing will probably be posted more if you do than if you leave all the thinking up to me. **

**Your reviews/suggestions + Me + Microsoft Office = happy story fun time.**

**P.S. the song Spencer listens to is a real song that I listen to when I'm feelin' all sad and what not. I strongly suggest checking it out. No, I'm not getting paid for mentioning any real product…mentioned in this story. I just feel like it makes it more real.**


	3. Cabo Rejection Gone Right

**I don't know if this is me being mushy ( a very rare occurrence, might I add) or if stress from Provincials is screwing with my brain, considering the massive stress/anxiety attack I had today and how I needed to leave school for two and a half hours until I calmed down a whole hell of a lot...not too surprising. I know you don't need to know about my teenage life blah, blah, blah but I'm supplying you with Escape literature, so those of you needing to take finals or Provincials (I don't know what they call the huge ass tests that are sent to the government in places that aren't Canada...or if other places even have them...) can leave your stressful lives behind, if only for few minutes. So, you can put up with me for a few seconds. **

**I think this is one story you'll come back to read over and over again. There's so much fluff I'm surprised my room isn't filled with cotton candy clouds and unicorns.**

"**What if...this had happened after Spencer rejected Ashley's Cabo offer" **

I closed the door and rested my back against the heavy wooden door. Ashley's footsteps retreated at a respectable rate for someone whose hopes had just been dashed until they stopped. I waited there, leaning against the door for what seemed like hours. "Bloody hell, Carlin..." Ashley muttered and suddenly her footsteps got louder. I furrowed my brow. I'd clearly told her no. I wouldn't go on her little get away. I wouldn't be with her after she left when Clay died. I couldn't be with someone who would take off the minute things got tough...who wouldn't be around when I need them most of all. Her shoes clacked against the cement as she neared the front door. She knocked on the door with quick, almost impatient rasps. "Spencer! Spencer open up!"

"Ashley...I—"

"Damn it!" I heard her curse, a small snap and crack echoed softly through the wood. I sighed and opened the door.

"Ash—"Her arms flung around my neck and lips crushed against mine. She spun me around the door and shut it behind us, using my back to lock it in place.

"Jesus Spencer" she said between kisses. "I can't stand this. I can't..." she pressed her lips to mine again "I just can't"

"Ash" I mumbled around the kiss "What?"

"You have to..." kiss "Take me as I am Spencer" roaming hands and kisses "I can't stop being me." She looked at me, ceasing her attack on me "I can't stop being an insensitive bitch Spencer." She cupped my face with both hands, her body flush with mine. "I can't stop doing stupid things"

"I need to be with someone who will stay when I need them Ashley, like how I was with you when your dad died." Her eyes darkened with pain but she didn't take them from my own.

"I need you, Spencer. I need you because I love you." She unbuttoned her jacket, revealing a "I am Stupid" T-shirt with an arrow pointing at herself. "I can't change who I am, Spencer." She said softly "But you make me better, you make me...want to be better."

"We have a lot to talk about"

"I know" she breathed softly "And this time, I'm not going anywhere." She stepped back and then I noticed she was limping. I glanced down.

"You're missing a shoe." I said bluntly. She smiled weakly with pain

"Yeah, I kind of broke your planter and my shoe at the same time...and my ankle."

"And your toe nail." She gasped and looked down, blood trickled down her big toe from a crack in her nail.

"Aw come on!" I giggled and wrapped my arm around her waist, helping her towards the bathroom

"It's not funny Spence! I spent, like, fifty bucks on them!" I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Come on Stupid." I whisper huskily in her ear "I'll make you feel a whole lot better."

But unfortunately, there was no kissing.

Only crying.

Ashley gently brushed the hair from my cheek as we laid on my bed, my head resting on her thigh and my tears soaking her jeans. Her foot, wrapped securely in a tenser bandage, was propped up on a couple of pillows with a bright pink Hello Kitty bandage tending to her big toe. I'd done all the crying I wish I could have with her comforting me. Clay's death still hurt and bled like a fresh wound, but it hurt less when Ashley was with me, like we were then. "You ok now?" She asked gently, running her fingers through my hair. I sniffed once. My eyes stung and I was sure my face was a gross, puffy red.

"I think so" I croaked, my throat was raw and my voice was raspy.

"Want me to get you some water?" she asked, hope painted her voice.

"No, no that's fine, your ankle is—"

"Not going to stop me from being there for you." Her words held a deeper meaning than I'd expected to feel and I simply nodded and sat up so she could leave. "I'll be right back Spence." She said gently before nuzzling my ear with her nose and kissing my temple. She got up and hobbled towards the stairs. I heard her inhale a heavy breath before lumbering down the stairs. With every other step came a "damn it" or an "ow" or a decorative curse word. I just thanked whatever supreme force out there that no one was home. A couple minutes later, she returned carrying a large bowl of water and a small glass. She set the bowl down and handed me the glass from where I was facing away from her.

"Thanks" I said, suddenly shy and very aware I looked hideously emotional. Ashley didn't do well with emotion. I really didn't want to scare her away now. So, when she asked me to look at her I responded with. "God no, my face is all puffy and red...crying you know?"

"I don't care Spencer."

"I look horrible"

"You could never look horrible Spence." I blinked and, despite myself, turned to look at my (ex?) girlfriend. She smiled ever so softly at me and gently dabbed at my face with a cold, damp cloth that had been soaking in the bowl she brought up. The coolness soothed my burning eyes and I couldn't help but sigh softly at the feeling. She wiped the salty tears from my cheeks and finished with the snot from my nose. I blushed horribly. "drink" she ordered jerking her head towards the glass in my hands. I obeyed and when I'd finished she took the glass from my hands and placed it on the bedside table. With a soft touch, she laid me down with her on the bed, my head resting on her chest. "Hey Spencer?" she said softly into my hair.

"hmm?" I mumbled, too tired to form words.

"If I be your Xena, will you be my Gabrielle?" I smiled slightly.

"Absolutely"

**Sigh, it warms my heart...ish. I'd apologise for the nerdy pick up line at the end but if a girl came up to me and asked "If I be your Gabrielle, will you be my Xena?" oh how I'd swoon. Putty in her hands, I would be. I'm just a girl with simple needs people; nerdy, yet simple needs.**


End file.
